Lonely People
by Peachuzoid
Summary: "Marie... Where is Jesse Pinkman?" (Post Felina, in which Marie takes Jesse under her wing, if only temporarily.)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Fill for the brbakinkmeme.

* * *

"_Things are gonna be rough for the next couple of weeks but they'll get better."_

Six months ago and Marie never would have suspected she'd be where she was today, her arms hugged around herself as though trying to keep the cold at bay. But there was no "keeping the cold at bay"—not when it was metaphorical.

She was standing alone outside of an interrogation room watching as two officers questioned the younger man she had as a house guest those six months ago. Only that younger man had changed so much, she wasn't sure if she would have recognized him. He was thought to be dead, killed along with… with Hank and Steve Gomez.

There was a news broadcast stating that some sort of tape had been found at an empty hangar where a meth lab had been set up, where dead bodies littered the ground, and among them was none other than Walt. But the officers on the scene suspected that Jesse Pinkman, the very man in front of Marie in that interrogation room, was thought to still be alive. He had escaped. Someone had found him just wandering aimlessly down the street and called the cops to report his location. And he still appeared to have had the life sucked out of him.

Marie had stood there watching through the glass pane unbeknownst to the younger man in question for nearly twenty minutes before the two officers stepped out of the room. His lips had only moved once in all that time, right before the officers left.

"What did he say?" Marie inquired. She lowered her hands down to her sides as she tore her stare away from Jesse.

"Just asked if he was under arrest." The first officer shrugged.

Marie found herself slightly fidgeting. "Is he?"

There was a part of Marie that _screamed_ it would only be justice if this Jesse Pinkman was at least behind bars. He was involved in all the crimes Walt was. It was one in the same. Maybe it was some sort of motherly instinct kicking in but seeing him in the condition that he was currently in—bruised and scarred, dirty—she didn't want him to be locked up. She didn't know the entire truth and what had happened to him over the past months but it certainly didn't look good.

The officers exchanged glances. "Well, not exactly. There's no hard evidence that proves he had anything to do with this Heisenberg other than word of mouth. We want to keep a close eye on him though. Keep him around."

Marie vaguely nodded and slowly turned back to take in the image of Jesse sitting at the interrogation table. He hadn't moved since, his stare seemingly locked onto the wall in front of him.

"What's the story? I mean, what's going to happen to him then?"

The first officer rested his hands on his hips and let out an exaggerated sigh. "Kid's gonna need a lot of therapy after what he's been through."

"His parents have been contacted and they're on their way to come get him," the second officer chimed in without missing a beat. "You gonna be alright, Marie?"

Marie just nodded again, her stare remaining. She listened to the officers walk off down the hall and before she even knew it, they were gone. Completely out of sight.

She found herself inching closer to the door. Her hand brushed over the door knob and her grip tightened as she slowly turned it, allowing the door to open a crack before she pushed it open the remainder of the way and stepped through.

Jesse's stare immediately fixated on her and he took on the look of a deer caught in the headlights. Spooked, that was the word. He grabbed at the chair arms and pushed himself up into more of a sitting position so that he wasn't as slouched.

"It's okay." Marie put her hands in the air as if to show she meant no harm. She frowned at the revelation, wondering what on earth would cause him to be frightened of her. Maybe he feared she was going to hurt him because of Hank. But she already understood that what happened to her late husband wasn't anyone's fault but Walt's.

She stood still while keeping a distance, just barely inside the room with her back practically against the door. Now that she was looking at Jesse straight on, she could see the scars on his face more prominently. That motherly instinct in her kicked in again and all she wanted to do was pull him into her arms and take care of him, get him some clean clothes and a shower. He looked worse than he did the last time she had seen him. A lot worse.

Marie took a cautious step forward and pointed back at the door. "Come with me."

"…What?" Jesse was staring at her like she was crazy now, his brow furrowed and his once wide eyes narrowing.

"Come with me," Marie repeated. "I'll get you out of here. You can come back home with me. Get cleaned up… Food."

"I can't just… leave."

"Sure you can. Come on." Marie waved her hand toward the door.

"But—"

"Don't worry about the agents. I'll talk to them later." Marie shrugged. "They said you were released anyway."

* * *

It took a lot more coaxing than Marie would have ever guessed to get Jesse out of that room and out to her car. She figured he would have been at least a little exuberant getting out of there but he hardly showed any form of emotion. If anything, he just looked… depressed.

Marie parked in the driveway and had to partially usher Jesse into the house as though he was waiting for a command, like he didn't know what to do otherwise. She couldn't blame him because it had to be weird. All of it, really.

She set her purse down on the kitchen counter before she noticed Jesse wasn't right beside her. She stepped around the corner to find him standing in the middle of the living room rubbing his arm. He definitely looked out of place in the large, open room.

"I was thinking, maybe, you could take a shower and get cleaned up." Marie placed her index finger to her lips as she looked him over. He was so _skinny_… "I'm sure I can try and find you something to wear in the meantime. At least for tonight. Then, well…"

She stopped, not quite sure where she was going with all of this. How long was she planning on keeping him? Apparently his parents had already been contacted and she was surprised she hadn't already received a phone call asking what she did with Pinkman and why he's missing.

Jesse rubbed at the back of his neck and slightly sniffed, slowly nodding his head. Marie couldn't get the image of a wounded animal out of her head. She wanted to help him. Maybe she could set him up with Dave. In time, though. She felt like she needed to gain his trust a little first before whisking him off to therapy.

"Great." Marie forced a smile. "I'll go find you some clothes."

And five minutes later, the best she could come up with was a pair of her sweatpants (a little loose on her so they'd probably fit Jesse—not to mention they were purple) and one of Hank's old shirts. She explained it was the best she could do without him completely swimming in a pair of Hank's old sweatpants but Jesse just took the clothing without a protest.

"Bathroom's down the hall and—well, you know…" Marie let her voice trail off as Jesse kind of nodded, walking around the corner. She heard the door click shut and she sighed. It felt weird, knowing that he had been here before and yet she really didn't even know him.

Marie had just stepped past the kitchen when she heard her cell phone ringing from within her purse. She backtracked until she reached the bag and dug the cellular device out. The DEA's office.

"Marie… Where is Jesse Pinkman?"

"Hi, George," she started in with a smile, though he obviously couldn't see it. He could probably _hear_ it though. "He's with me. Is there a problem?"

"A problem? The problem is that we had him in custody and you just took him without any consent."

"I had _his_ consent." Marie shrugged, leaning against the counter as she switched her cell phone to her other hand.

"Marie," George's tone changed into a warning. "His parents are here."

"Look, George. Your officers said it themselves: Jesse needs help. Let me be the one to help him. I can do it. After Hank, I—I just feel like I need this." Marie shut her eyes and willed the thoughts that filled her head to leave as she held back the tears that started to prick at her eyes. "Let me get through to him and I'll take him to see Dave. Tell his parents whatever you want to but please, George, I need this."

There was a slight sigh over the receiver followed by a moment of silence before George spoke up. "You are not by any means Jesse Pinkman's guardian, nor do you have any affiliation with this man, Marie."

"He stays with me. He's safe here. And if you need him, you know where to find him." Marie hung up and set her phone on the counter. No affiliation? Jesse's the last and only man still standing and alive to have seen Hank and Steve Gomez up until the moment they were both killed. Jesse had been the one to help Hank and Gomez go after Walt. Jesse had been in her house before. And maybe Marie needed Jesse just as much as he needed someone like her to get through all of this; _closure_.

In time, though. Everything would have to work out in time.


	2. Chapter 2

Marie heated up some leftovers for her and Jesse to eat before heading for bed. She had managed to crush up a couple sleeping pills and slip them into his drink. Luckily, he hadn't said anything about it tasting odd or having a weird texture—she wasn't sure if she had crushed them thoroughly enough.

But thirty minutes after he dismissed himself from the table, Marie decided to check up on him. And she found him passed out and curled up in the guest bed. She smiled faintly at the image. At least he looked a lot cleaner than he had. He definitely needed a haircut though. And a good shave.

Marie pulled the bedroom door shut and headed for the bathroom herself. She figured she'd take a quick shower and call it a night too. There was no telling what the next day would bring.

* * *

It was early the next morning when Marie awoke and crawled out of bed. She had troubles falling asleep and staying asleep, and the more she thought about it, she should have taken some sleeping pills herself. There was too much stuff on her mind. Stuff that pertained to Jesse. It practically revolved around Jesse. Questions she wanted to ask but was too afraid to.

So she got up and decided to fix something for breakfast. Just something simple, nothing too extravagant. And by the time she was about done, she noticed Jesse standing back a little ways in the doorway.

"Good morning." Marie forced a smile as she pushed the omelet from the skillet onto a plate. She glanced over at him. "You sleep okay?"

Jesse vaguely nodded. He hadn't said a single word since Marie brought him back to her house. Maybe she just needed to ask more than a yes or no question.

"Well, I made omelets. Egg whites only. And there's some whole wheat toast, 100% orange juice—no pulp—and fresh fruit in the fridge. Just… help yourself."

Marie forced another smile and stared at Jesse. She couldn't tell what his gaze was fixed on but he wasn't moving and he still wasn't saying anything. Then he just kind of blinked at her, like she wasn't real or something.

_Just like a kid_, Marie thought. _A lost, broken kid._

She turned back to the food and went ahead and fixed up a plate for him. What were her plans for the day? What in the world was she going to do with Jesse Pinkman in her house? Maybe she hadn't thought everything through very thoroughly. She had just acted on an impulse.

Marie set the plate down on the table along with some silverware. She gestured for Jesse to come over and take a seat as she moved back to the kitchen to make up her own plate. She cautiously watched from the corner of her eye. Jesse had his arms hugged around himself as he slowly approached the table, pulling the chair out and sitting. And when Marie was finished making her plate, she took the seat across from him.

It was completely silent except for the occasional clang of a fork hitting a plate. Marie was used to it but that didn't mean she liked it. She watched Jesse, for the most part, push his food around. He set his fork down after a while and grabbed the glass of orange juice Marie had poured for him. He used both hands and Marie noticed he was slightly shaking.

"There's coffee too. If you prefer," Marie offered to break the silence.

Jesse only shook his head, rubbing the side of his face.

After a few minutes of nothing but silence, Marie found herself pushing her food around her plate too. She couldn't tear her stare away from Jesse, couldn't tear her thoughts away. He seemed almost lifeless six months ago and now he was so much worse. She had seen the confession tape he made for Hank but apparently there was some other tape that had been found at the crime scene. Whatever was on it had led them to believe Jesse was still alive. But what was on it?

"What did they do to you?" Marie whispered. She hadn't meant to really say it aloud but the words slipped from her mouth.

She could see Jesse visibly tense up. And it marked the first time he truly looked her in the eyes.

"I mean… I don't—" Marie placed her fingers against her temples, elbows resting on the table. "It's none of my business…"

"Just ask already," Jesse replied.

Marie lowered her hands away from her face, brow furrowed. "What?"

"You wanted me to come back here with you so I could tell you how your husband died, right? So just ask me already."

Marie suddenly felt like a fish out of water, her mouth agape, taken aback. Of all the things Jesse could say—the first thing Jesse had said since he stepped foot in her house again—had to be that.

"I… I do want to know what happened… what happened to Hank." She spoke slowly, cautiously. She didn't want to say the wrong thing. "But I want to help you too."

Jesse sat forward more, his elbows now on the table and his face buried behind his hands. She heard him mutter, "No, you don't."


	3. Chapter 3

Two cups of coffee and the dining room table separated Marie from Jesse. The plates were picked up and cleared away as Marie watched Jesse intently, his fingers grasping the mug and pulling it closer toward him before lacing together.

"So… Hank had…" Marie cleared her throat, trying to keep her emotions at bay. "Hank had Walt in custody. But how…?"

"Mr. Whi—_Walt_, uh…" Jesse rubbed at his face. "These—these… _guys_… they kinda worked for him. He must have called them or something because they showed up. There was a firefight, guns blazing… Your—your husband and the other guy, the other DEA agent, were shot and killed."

Marie almost felt as though she was more focused on Jesse than his words. He kept fidgeting, his hands leaving then returning to the mug in front of him. His voice seemed rough and he was practically gritting his teeth as he spoke.

"Did they—was it… quick?"

"Yeah… No pain."

"But you?"

"I was supposed to be killed that day too. Pretty sure that's why he called those… guys in the first place. He wanted me dead. Must have thought I was alone." Jesse's voice tapered off, "For what it's worth, I wish it was the other way around. Your husband sitting here with you instead of me."

Marie turned her gaze up toward Jesse then. He still had his hands hugged around the coffee mug and staring down, anywhere but at her. She thought about reaching out to him, resting a hand on his. Just a simple notion of comfort. Did he truly mean it?

Before Marie had the chance to try and process all of that, what it meant that Jesse was supposed to have been killed that day but evidence had pointed to him having been at the same place all those people were found murdered, there was a clatter that came from the front door. It didn't even faze her. She assumed it was Skyler—she had been dropping in unannounced from time to time with Holly. And when she heard her sister's voice call out her name, she had received her answer.

"…Marie?" Skyler was standing back a ways, having just entered into the dining room. She had Holly in her arms and a questioning look on her face that bounced back and forth from Jesse to her sitting across from one another. Her stare ultimately landed on Jesse though and froze.

Jesse had jumped to his feet at Skyler's entrance. He had his back pressed to the chair he had just been sitting in, hands gripping onto the sides just ever so slightly before slowly easing back down. Marie rose to her feet and wiped under her eyes.

"What…" Skyler paused, raising a finger in the air to make sure no one else said a word before she could find what she was wanting to say. "What is he doing here. Marie?"

Marie quietly ushered her sister down the hall and into the kitchen. She ducked her head out to make sure Jesse was out of earshot before turning back to face Skyler, Holly bouncing in her arms.

"The DEA don't have anything on him and they thought it'd be a good idea to keep him close."

"'Nothing on him'?" Skyler narrowed her eyes.

"I know what you're thinking, believe me. But… I mean, just _look_ at him, Skyler." Marie gestured toward her own face before wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing her arms.

"So, what? You volunteered to take him in like he's a lost puppy?" Skyler walked around the counter to set Holly down on the floor since she had started to fuss. "He's still a criminal. Did you ever think that, maybe, whatever happened to him, he deserved it?"

"_So are you_," Marie whispered harshly. "You went along with everything Walt did and you only got out of it because he made it look like he forced you—" Skyler's finger rested upon her lips to silence her.

There were still so many unsettled things between them that Marie wasn't sure if it would ever go back to how it used to be before all this "Heisenberg" stuff began. They still talked, sure, and they still saw one another, but they never truly cleared the air.

"I blamed Walt for _everything_, Skyler. Once Hank found out..." Marie shook her head. "I wanted to put the blame on that kid sitting in my dining room. And I did, at first. When I heard he was still alive after Hank and Steve were _killed_? I wanted him dead. But after seeing him, seeing what he looks like now? If he were dead it wouldn't change anything. It's not going to bring Hank back. All of this—everything we've been through—is because of Walt though. I do believe that."

"Well, he's dead now." Skyler held her stare, her blue eyes piercing.

Marie bowed her head. "Okay, okay. I don't want to fight. I'm sorry."

The topic of Walt and anything revolving around him was practically shunned from conversation. Skyler never wanted to talk about it. It was just like it never happened, like Marie was just supposed to believe the cancer was what killed Walt two years ago and this was how things were from here on out.

For her sister's sake, she'd let it slide. She knew not to push too much, out of fear of losing her remaining family.

"But seriously, Marie. What exactly are your plans here?"

"I don't know. It's just—it's just that he's scared and he needs help. And I want closure." Marie crossed her arms. "I was just starting to talk to him when you got here. He's the only one who knows everything that we don't."

"Maybe it's best we _don't_ know everything. Just let the past be the past."

Marie bit her lip from saying anything more. It wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth starting some argument. Jesse wasn't going anywhere. She could ask him whatever she wanted to and if Skyler didn't want to know, then fine.

She headed back into the dining room, assuming the conversation had concluded. She immediately noticed Jesse was hunched over the table, his hands pushed back into his hair. As she grew nearer she was able to tell that he was crying. His shoulders shook with every silent sob and sniffle.

"Hey," Marie frowned, approached him and gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched like she had burned him and his breath hitched. It only made her frown deepen.

Those scars must have run a lot deeper than she thought.


End file.
